Pitt died on the twenty-third of January. I am ordered home by the ship that brought the news. If you can be ready by tomorrow, I believe it would be best for you to travel home with me.
In haste,
William
The prime minister of England was dead? The multitudinous implications flooded into Sabrina’s mind, leaving her shaken. Pitt had been the driving force behind the war against Bonaparte and for the alliance with Russia. Now that he was gone, the policies of Britain might alter drastically. Naturally someone from the embassy staff must go at once, yet in the present delicate situation it was impossible for Lord Gower to leave. In any case, he could not be given new instructions. If the ministry changed, it was likely that Lord Gower would be recalled, since he had always been a powerful adherent of Pitt’s and would be suspected of pushing Pitt’s policies even if the new ministry had different ideas. Yes, William was the logical person to go.
Sabrina stood up. William was right. It would be best for her to go. There was no telling how long he would be delayed in England, and she could not remain in Russia alone. She could, of course, take the next available transportation, but then if William were sent back to Russia in a hurry, her ship might cross his. The result would be that she would reach England and immediately have to turn around and come back. That would be ridiculous.
The thought was so definite that Sabrina stood perfectly still examining it. Why should she return to Russia at all? She certainly did not feel a need to be with William. Was it because she felt it to be her duty? Yes, a little perhaps, but…Perce! Well! That answered rather definitely the question of how she felt about him. She hadn’t been thinking about him at all, but deep inside her he was enough of a lodestone to have made her decide instantly and definitely to return.
“Oh, goodness! Perce!” she said aloud.
He would not know. She glanced at the clock. If she sent a note at once, it might catch him before he left his rooms. She burst out of the breakfast room, sending Sasha to fetch Katy to her sitting room at once. Then she ran up the stairs, thrusting aside the footmen who would have accompanied her and slowed her down. Pushing aside the heap of invitations on her writing table—she would somehow have to find time to send excuses to all those whose invitations she had accepted—she reached for paper and a quill. Even as she was thinking through the wording of her excuses, she scribbled her note to Perce. It didn’t matter what she said to him.
Katy rushed into the room, breathless with hurry, as Sabrina folded and sealed her note, calling for a footman to carry it. “What—” Katy cried but Sabrina waved her into silence while she instructed the footman, emphasizing the need for great haste and pressing into his hand coins to pay for a hired conveyance.
“We must leave for England tomorrow,” she said to Katy. “Can you and Charlot get us packed and ready?”
“Tomorrow!” Katy echoed. “What’s wrong, luv?”
“For us, personally, nothing,” Sabrina assured her, “but Mr. Pitt died on the twenty-third of January and the government must be in a turmoil. William has been ordered home for new instructions. We must go on the naval vessel that brought the news, I suppose.” Then Sabrina put a hand to her forehead. “Dear God, I don’t know whether there will be room or suitable quarters for you, Katy.”
“Dinna worrit about me. Just tell me whether ye expect to be comin’ back here.”
“Yes, I expect so, but I’m not sure. Oh dear!”
“Dinna worrit now,” Katy soothed. “We’ll manage fine. I’ll set the laundry maid to packin’ yer little things. She knows how to fold them fine, and Himself’s smallclothes, too. While she’s at that Charlot and me, we’ll just step round and mark the things that are ours. Then, if we dinna come back, someone from the embassy can come and see to the packin’ and shippin’ them home.”
“Yes. Yes, do that,” Sabrina said distractedly, but she hadn’t been thinking of the possessions that would have to be left behind, ornaments and paintings that she and William had purchased to add a warmer, more personal note to the ready furnished house they had rented. She had been thinking that it might be a very long time before she saw Perce again. She had almost jumped up to call the footman back, but knew it was too late. Surely Perce would come before they left. But what had she written in that note?
Never mind, Sabrina told herself angrily, and drew her appointment calendar toward her abruptly. She began to write notes of apology, refusing to allow herself to formulate the thought that Perce might not come to say goodbye, might view her sudden departure as a release from an entanglement that had become more intense than he originally projected. She completed the notes and was piling them together to be given to the footman for delivery when an incredible uproar broke out on the floor below. She heard a footman cry out in frightened protest and then Perce’s voice shouting her name.
Sabrina flew out of her sitting room and almost collided with Perce, who was leaping up the stairs with his greatcoat still on and a pistol in his hand. The footmen were pounding up the stairs behind him, recovered from their initial shock and determined to protect their “little mother” even at the cost of their lives.
“Stop!” Sabrina shrieked at them.
They obeyed, but largely because they saw the pistol drop to point at the ground the instant Perce saw their mistress.
“Go. Go,” she ordered them. “You know well that this is my dear friend and he would not harm me.” And then, turning to Perce, who was clutching the banister and gasping for breath, “What’s happened? Perce, what’s wrong?”
“You’re asking me what’s wrong?” he choked.
“What are you doing with that gun?” she cried.
He stared at her for a minute until he caught his breath. “What the devil did you expect when you sent me a note saying, ‘Something dreadful has happened. Come at once.’ Then your butler told me you weren’t receiving anyone I thought… I hate to tell you what I thought.”
“Oh, heavens! Is that what I wrote? I—” She grasped his arm and pulled him into her sitting room. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea… How stupid!”
While Sabrina sought for words, Perce shoved the pistol into a pocket, unbuttoned his greatcoat, and pulled it off.
“Sabrina, what has happened?”
“Pitt’s dead. He died on the twenty-third of last month. William has been ordered home. We must leave tomorrow.”
He threw the greatcoat on a chair and turned back toward her. Sabrina was blushing furiously.
“I only meant to tell you that we were leaving,” she went on in a small voice. “I can’t imagine why I should have written anything so silly. I suppose I wanted to be sure to see you before we—”
But there was no need for Sabrina to try to explain what she had done. Perce had taken two steps, caught her in his arms, and prevented her from speaking at all by kissing her. She returned his embrace with passionate urgency, clinging fiercely to him when she felt his lips releasing hers. But he was not withdrawing, only lifting his mouth to whisper, “Darling, darling,” before he kissed her feverishly again, pressing his lips to her ears and throat.
Neither head the door open and then close softly almost at once. Katy stood with her back against it, a stunned expression on her face. She had noticed, of course, that Sabrina had been in excellent spirits recently and had wondered whether the husband had cut short his affair. Then, when she saw that the door between his dressing room and Sabrina’s bedchamber remained locked, she had begun to associate Sabrina’s happiness with Lord Kevern’s presence in St. Petersburg but not for this reason! Silently Katy wrung her hands. Himself was no good, no good at all, but this could only bring more grief.
She could not have convinced either Sabrina or Perce at that moment. They were still locked together, feeding on each other’s passion. Sabrina slipped her arms under his coat the better to feel his body. He had worked one of her short sleeves off her shoulder and was kissing that and the tops of her breasts
, while she ran her lips up and down the back of his neck. One of his arms clutched her close, the other stroked her and picked at the tiny buttons on the back of her dress.
Outside the door, Katy saw Charlot emerge from the drawing room across the stairwell with a sheaf of papers in his hand. Probably he would go to his master’s dressing room, but it was possible he would be bringing those lists to Brina. Swallowing a cry of terror, Katy fled down the corridor to the entrance to Sabrina’s bedchamber. She ran through the room, then through the short passageway that served as a wardrobe, being lined on both sides by cupboards and closets. At the end of the passageway was the door to Brina’s sitting room.
“Brina,” Katy called loudly, “are you all right? What was all that noise?”
Her voice sounded strange to her, but she hoped the muffling of the door would conceal it. She hoped Brina had heard her, hoped that it would stop her, but she couldn’t take the chance. She sped back through the passageway and bedchamber without waiting for a reply and popped out of the door. The footman near the stairway looked at her curiously, but everyone had been running around like mad, so Katy’s hurry did not seem too odd.
Charlot was nowhere in sight. Katy took a deep breath. Should she go back and enter the sitting room on some excuse? But she was afraid she would give herself away and make Brina more miserable. Well, at least she could give them a little time. She asked the footman where Charlot had gone and followed the valet. There were plenty of arrangements they needed to talk about, and she could tell him not to bother Brina.
Sabrina would not have noticed if Katy had croaked like a frog. Perce had just succeeded in loosening enough buttons to slide her dress and chemise off one of her full breasts. The call through the door was like a knife in the back. Sabrina muffled a cry of frustration and fear against Perce’s hair and clutched him to her convulsively. He froze in the act of reaching for her nipple with his lips.
“Yes,” Sabrina tried to say, but the word came out as a low, creaking gasp. She drew a shaking breath and tried again. “I’m all right, Katy. It was only a misunderstanding with the footmen. Perce is here.” Her voice trembled dangerously, and she stopped to steady it. “We have something to discuss. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
But it was too late. What might have happened in a spontaneous and overwhelming flood of recognition and desire they could have forgiven themselves and each other. To pause and lock the doors and begin again would somehow cheapen what they felt. Gently Perce drew Sabrina’s chemise and dress up over her shoulder. She uttered a sob, and he drew her close and kissed her lips. Then he turned her around and rebuttoned her dress.
“God knows I want you, Brina,” he whispered, leaning his head against hers, “but this isn’t the way.”
“No,” she agreed, “and I was just thinking before William’s note came that it would be better if we were apart for a little while. I can’t think when I know you’re within reach, Perce.”
“I don’t need to think,” he said, smiling slightly. Then he sighed. “But you do. I know what I want, and it’s easy for me. But you’ll be the one to suffer. You aren’t one to sit home and sew a fine seam, Brina. You want to be out and doing.” He paused, sighed again. “I suppose I should be grateful for your sake that Katy called in to you.” Then he stiffened and, his hands tightened on her shoulders, turned her around to face him. “Did you say Mr. Pitt was dead?”
Sabrina stared at him, nodded, and suddenly giggled, although tears had risen into her eyes. It was quite clear that Perce had been so caught up in how she summoned him, and its results, that he had given no thought as to why.
“Good God?” he exclaimed, stepping away from her. What is to happen now? Are we to have Mr. Addington back as prime minister? That would be a disaster. The man doesn’t know his own mind, much less what’s best for the country.”
“William’s note didn’t say any more than— Yes? Come in.”
Charlot opened the door, following his scratch. One did not in general scratch at a sitting room door. Charlot, the most correct of servants, knew that quite well, but Mrs. Petersen had warned him that Lady Elvan was busy, so he felt a warning was necessary.
“I am sorry to bother you, madame,” he apologized. “Mrs. Petersen said you did not wish to be disturbed, but I felt I must ask about the gold candlesticks and the clock with diamonds. Should they be left with all the other things?
“No, indeed. Thank you, Charlot. Anything small and particularly valuable should be taken, of course, but not the paintings or the rugs.”
He bowed and stepped back out of the door, closing it carefully behind him. Both Sabrina and Perce looked at it speculatively for a moment, then Perce’s brows rose questioningly. Sabrina shook her head.
“I doubt Elvan knows any more than was in his note,” Perce said, but his eyes were asking a question that had nothing to do with politics. “The news of Mr. Pitt’s death must have been sent out immediately. Even the ministers can’t have known exactly what would happen.”
“Yes,” Sabrina agreed. “But I’ve forgotten my manners in all the excitement. Will you take a glass of wine, Perce?”
“At this hour, ale, if you have it, thank you.”
She went to the door, grateful for the first time that Russian houses did not use bells as English ones did. The huge number of serf-slaves that the rich used in Russia eliminated the need for mechanical contrivances. In most houses a man was stationed at every door so that master or mistress need only call out for service. In many houses the servants actually waited inside the rooms. Russians, Sabrina thought, did not have the same need for privacy that the English did. In any case, Sabrina followed custom for the public rooms, like the drawing room or dining room or breakfast parlor, but she had forbidden the invasion of the private sections of the house, the bedchambers and dressing rooms and her own private sitting room.
In this instance the rule was fortunate, as it permitted her to go out into the corridor to see whether Charlot was listening at the door. She had no intention of catching him at it, of course. That was the reason for the stupid verbal exchange about refreshment, to give the valet time to get away. Charlot was not in the hallway. This meant nothing. He might have slipped into any room along the way, or he might have been completely innocent. The latter was most likely. Charlot knew Perce was a frequent visitor, accepted by his master. Scratching at the door before entering was, for Charlot, completely natural. Sabrina shivered. She would never have thought about Charlot listening in the hallway before she fell into Perce’s arms. It was a horrible prognostication for a future full of misery and suspicion.
Sabrina beckoned to the footman near the head of the stairs and gave her order. Then she went back inside, shut the door, and walked straight into Perce’s arms again. “What are we going to do?” she whispered.
He held her close without passion, comfortingly. “I’ll do whatever you want, Brina. You’re the one who’ll be hurt, so you have to decide. Are you sure he wasn’t spying? I don’t care, but if Elvan is suspicious, I don’t want you traveling with him alone.”
“No, it’s not William. He’s too—too conceited to believe I’d find anyone else attractive.”
“Don’t you believe it, Brina. Men who chase are often the most suspicious.” He stood away from her, holding gently to her upper arms and looking at her intently.
She shook her head. “Not William, not in the way you mean, anyhow. I had to be pretty blatant with flirting when we were in Vienna. And he didn’t get angry. He just dropped the woman he was after and started on me. If he noticed anything special about us, I’m sure his first reaction would have been to pay me a great deal of attention.” She shivered again and said in a low voice, “We never would have thought anything was wrong if we hadn’t…”
Perce pulled her back into his arms for a brief, hard hug, then let go of her completely. He went to the chair near her writing table where her shawl lay. She had dropped it when she ran out in r
esponse to his voice. Perce picked it up and put it around her tenderly. He had found the answer to the question he had asked himself when he first hoped Sabrina could love him. He was not going to seduce her. She would be utterly and completely miserable, and he wouldn’t be much happier.
“I know you aren’t really cold, darling,” he said. “And I don’t know what we’re going to do, but cheating on your husband isn’t the solution. You aren’t made that way. Well, neither am I.”
Chapter Six
The trip home was a cold, cramped misery. The naval sloop had never been meant to carry passengers, of course. It had one advantage, however, in that there was no place to put Katy unless she and Sabrina shared quarters. This eliminated any possibility of an attempt by William to enjoy his marital rights. Nor did their arrival at Dover give him any opportunity. Sabrina informed him that she would go directly to Stour Castle. He looked a little oddly at her then.
“But Lady Leonie and St. Eyre will probably be in London. I imagine St. Eyre will be interested in the organization of the new government.”
“Possibly,” Sabrina replied coldly, “although it is a month since Mr. Pitt died and very possibly my cousin, at least, is at home. In any case, I can see no reason to be shaken up in a post chaise for seven or eight hours when I can be at Stour in two.”
“Very well, my dear,” William said pacifically.
There was a gleam in his eyes, however, that made Sabrina stifle a sigh. Countess Latuski was out of reach, momentarily at least, and William had become aware of his wife’s coldness. Soon, if he did not find a more interesting prey, he would be hot on her trail. Sabrina could not help laughing as she found herself sincerely wishing he would find a tempting woman at once. Then her eyes filled with tears. It was really dreadful to feel like that about one’s husband.
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